


Your Waves Are Rocking Me

by t0bemadeofglass



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Prompt Fill, Slow Build, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 01:50:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3673020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Natasha agreed to leave her own kingdom and travel to Asgard with Steve so he could meet his betrothed she hadn’t anticipated finding a distraction of her own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Waves Are Rocking Me

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by twelvesonic, who asked for an arranged marriage AU off a list I reblogged. I played with the one I found so that rather than siblings, it's just best friends. Hope that's alright, and I hope you enjoy!

Nat could hardly stifle her yawn as she plopped herself on a small chaise-lounge at the edge of the Asgardian receiving room, the gold of her dress nearly matching the deep, burnished fabric. She hated waiting, and though the room was grand--decked in fine golds and reds, with some of the finest furnishings she’d yet seen--the minutes were stretching on until she was certain she’d die in that bloody room. Her feet ached just from watching Steve pace back and forth, his lips set in a tight line, his hands twitching with nerves she hadn’t seen in him many times before.

“Would you relax?” she asked, eyes tired from watching him go. Honestly, with that sort of energy he could very well dig a hole to the other side of the world. “Everything is going to be fine.”

She watched his left hand clench, then relax, as he turned to her. His blue eyes were wide and . . . terrified. It wasn’t a good look on him, she decided.

“But what if she hates me?” he asked, stepping towards her. She could see the anxiety already creasing his skin, his normally perfect hair already falling out of shape and they hadn’t been there longer than half an hour. Wow. He really was losing it. With a sigh, she stood and reached up on her tip-toes to straighten it out, before dusting off his broad shoulders.

“It’s all going to be fine,” she promised with an easy grin that told him she needed his trust on this. Needed him to remain level headed.

Before he could voice any of his other doubts the doors flung open wide and Sif stood with a pleased look on her face, smiling so much that the emotion met her eyes. Steve went stiff as a beam, his eyes widening. This meeting had been his idea, his decision to meet his would be bride months before their arranged marriage. A smart idea, Nat had agreed, and having owed him for getting her out of a few tight situations involving the loose lipped men and women at her court, she’d agreed to come with. To give her opinion. Not that there was much of a choice. If they didn’t like it . . . well those in Alfheim swore by divorce.

She didn’t think it would come to that, though. Steve was an honorable man. He could find the good in the worst of them--had found the best in those who thought they were undeserving of it. Her chest ached at the notion, and her mouth twisted into an amused smile as Steve’s attention fixed on Sif, the pair of them growing closer as though pulled together by string. She was very pretty, too. Black hair that shone like the obsidian in Natasha’s kingdom’s mines, and bright eyes that caught Steve’s excitement and bounced it back at him. Steve took his fiance’s hand in his own and brought the back of it up to his lips when she neared, causing the woman to break out into an earnest grin. It brought a smile of Natasha’s own to her lips, her body relaxing even though she hadn’t noticed that she, too, had been anxious. See? She knew they’d do fine.

With those two occupied Natasha’s eyes lit on the figure who’d accompanied Sif, smoothing her hands over her deep red skirts as she took him in. He was tall, fair skinned, with cheekbones sharper than the blades of her knights. She watched him in her peripherals as he took a couple steps away from the happy couple, long arms folded behind his back, the gold glint of his armor catching the light of the torches. She’d never seen him before, didn’t even have a name to put to his face as to who would be accompanying Sif. Discovering it, she hoped, would at least give her something to do while Steve and Sif got to know one another in the month they spent together in Asgard.

When she caught him sneaking glances in her direction it only made her grin. Good to know she wasn’t alone in her interest.

 

\--

 

He sought her out by the evening, when they’d all sat down to dine in the grand hall. The ceiling towered above them and through the windows strong gusts of summer night air filled the firelit room. Thor, the current king, was holding court at the very front of it, toasting the happiness of his best friend and her betrothed with a grin so wide Natasha thought it might split his whole face in two. Seated immediately to his right was the dark haired man. Loki, she’d discovered his name to be, and sneaky though he might’ve thought he was he certainly wasn’t as good as she at sneaking glances. She’d taken her place at Steve’s side, who was a few seats down on the left side of Thor, Sif nearest thanking the king with a look of pleasure and a deep swallow of her own wine when it came time. Natasha caught Loki’s gaze over the rim of her own goblet, and smiled as the heady liquid poured down her throat, chest burning with its heat.

The seating arrangement stopped being useful a few moments after the food had been served, when everyone seemed to stand up to move around and converse on their own, heedless of propriety. A trio of men, knights in the king’s army based on the emblazoned sigils on their garments and the cape on the blond one, came to sit between Sif and Thor. Something they said made the pair laugh, and even Steve shared in on the smile though the joke was lost on Natasha. She hadn’t been paying attention to the shadow her own presence had garnered until it pressed its forearm up against hers as it took a seat just to her left.

“The court is made brighter by your presence, my lady.” His voice was as silky as she’d imagined, and she couldn’t help but smile at the line he tried feeding her.

“Does that work on all the girls you try to charm, my lord?” She turned her head so as to face him, watched as he looked down and laughed good humoredly.

“You’d be surprised. Though I’ve never found a lady who made me mean it as you do. Lady . . .”

“Natasha Romanova.” She offered him her hand, which he took and kissed the back of it after sparing her a quick look of surprise. So he knew of her, knew that she was queen of her own lands and had been presiding over them since the death of her father some ten years ago when she was just a child. Any moment she expected his charm to strengthen, for the marriage proposal to be the only thing on his mind as it was with every other lord, prince, or imbecile to learn of her name and title. A pity, when she’d been hoping he’d be a worthwhile diversion. She tugged her hand back with a sense of finality when he released it.

“A pleasure to meet you, my lady. Are you here on business?” he asked. His tone remained curious, and if anything he seemed to distance himself slightly from her, as though settling into his own space.

“No. Pleasure. Lord Rogers ia dear friend of mine, and I wished to provide him with some semblance of support while he was away from home.”

“You are a kind mistress indeed.”

Was that the truth coming from his lips? Somehow she sensed it, and the thought brought a laugh bubbling past her lips.

One of his eyebrows rose in curiosity, though he smiled as well. “I’ve said something to amuse you?”

“Yes, actually. I welcome the novelty of it. Not many share the same sense of humor.” She brought her goblet up to her lips, taking another sip as she felt his eyes sizing her up, felt him trying to figure out whether she was mocking him or being genuine.

Wasn’t that the question?

“Perhaps you’ll allow me another chance to further please you, my lady.”

He kept referring to her by that title rather than queen. Why? It didn’t grate on her as it might have others, not when she was so comfortable in her own throne, in her own rights. No it was a fresh spring breeze that breathed new life into her hopes that he’d prove to be entertaining. Slowly, her fingertips glanced over the back of his wrist, exposed where it sat on the table between them. Gooseflesh burst on the surface following where she touched him, and try though he might have to hide it she caught the shiver that rippled down his spine. She smiled up at him through her eyelashes.

“I’d be glad to, my lord Loki.”

He didn’t bother asking how it was she’d known his name.

 

\--

 

She and Steven were given lavish quarters near the library, and the Lady Sif’s own rooms, for their stay, and Natasha was grateful for the nearness of a distraction without her having to impose upon someone else for directions. They housed more books than her own personal library she hated to admit, and the subjects of these ranged from Asgard’s history, to botany, to books on weaponry. It was with her nose buried in one of these that Loki found her. Steve and Sif had taken a turn around the gardens, and desperate for a reprieve from their flirtations Natasha had complained of a headache and taken her leave of them. It never ceased to surprise her how easy that one was to get away with.

As the night before she hadn’t heard Loki until he’d gotten close enough to speak, so when he did ask how she was liking the book her heart about jumped from her chest and onto the ground. She snapped the tome shut with a loud ‘thud,’ whipping around to glower at him, though the look melted from her face once she saw his own look of surprise. So at least it hadn’t been done in malice.

“Apologies, my lady. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You startled me.” she corrected. “And it’s quite interesting, thank you very much. Your entire collection is to be applauded. And without a librarian to take care of them all.”  There hadn’t been anyone to greet her or assist her upon walking into the room, so she’d only assumed that there hadn’t been one.

“Thank you,” he said. She watched as his eyes flittered over the cover of her book, and she offered it up to him. He took it, weighing the book in his hands and smiling.

“You’re interested in weapons, my lady?”  

That wasn’t the question he was looking to ask, and her quirked eyebrow told him that she knew so. It was endearing the way he wriggled around outright asking what it was he wished to know about her, and she relaxed in the enormous chair she’d taken, shoulders pressed into the back of it as she watched his face. Though his eyes never left the cover it was clear he was working out the next thing to say, wondering what it was that he was picturing, what it was that went on in his mind. She hoped she hadn’t embarrassed him too much already, or that he wasn’t regretting coming to see her. He presented a diversion she was all too keen to take advantage of. Solitude was one thing, but a puzzle was a rarity she had gone too long without. He handed the book back to her, and she accepted it with a murmur of thanks.

Sitting up slowly, her right hand reaching out to take his wrist and squeeze it gently. The contact made his body twitch, and his eyes snapped onto hers. A quiet laugh left his lips. “That was rather a foolish question, wasn’t it?”

“A small one, but I won’t judge you. Will you sit with me, my lord?”

He took the chair opposite her that she offered, legs spread wide as he reclined, fingers drumming slowly on the end of either armrest. “What made you decide against taking the air with your friend and his fiance?”

Boring. She bit back a yawn, wondering why he kept beating around the bush. There was no one there to keep them as proper as he insisted on acting, so why was he hell bent on maintaining that? She hoped it wasn’t intended to be for her sake, because she’d pegged him at being far better at reading people than that. “I had a mild headache and wished to stay away from their constant flirtations. I am happy for him, but there’s only so much I can stomach in a day.” She cocked her head to the side, watching as his face lit up with an amused, surprised laugh and his body relaxed further. His knees spread all the wider, and in her minds eye she could see herself seated on his lap, her skirts hiked up his trousers around his ankles--.

No. No. She wasn’t at home, this wasn’t her court where she could get away with just about anything. She had to act the part of a queen for once, not the harlot that she preferred. Though, if she could simply take him to court with her . . . .

That was a thought for another time.

“How is you know the Lady Sif?” Natasha asked, mostly for her own benefit to rid her brain of the distraction that his wide legs kept offering. And what a welcome distraction that was. It was far too dull here to satisfy her. Her court was lively, filled with bawdy laughter and jokes, with tricks and secrets and intrigues that made the time spent out of war councils and seeing her people all the more enjoyable.  

“We grew up together, as her family is very close to my own. And Thor thought that presenting her himself might present too intimidating a figure.” Loki said, nails picking at the fraying edges of the armrest on his left, green eyes holding her own.

She snorted. “Well, he has a point about that.”

“That’s what I told him. I was surprised at how thoughtful he was being. For my brother it’s far more of a ‘I need to kill or maim everything before me’ sort of mentality that I’ve grown used to. Internal reason was a welcome turn of events.”

Natasha couldn’t help herself from laughing, catching sight of the way his body relaxed further at the noise. He was so in tune with those around him, his body reflecting the actions and emotions of those he surrounded himself with. She’d seen it before at the feast, his body having tensed when Thor’s had before making his speech congratulating the couple, then going lax once more once the group had begun to drink and eat. Even now he mirrored her own external changes, every shift seconded by one of his own. Did he have any control over it, or if had he just learned to change himself due to his time spent at court? Inquiring minds needed to know, and she sought to test it out. Her body shifted, straightening as she arched her back subtly. Her breasts, already straining against her corset, seemed to fill out all the more, and she swore she saw his eyes flicker towards them. He shifted as well, clearing his throat and crossing his legs.

Heh. That was easy.

“And what sort of man are you, Loki?” Her voice pitched a half octave lower, and she raked her teeth over her bottom lip slowly. His gaze followed the movement. “You don’t strike me as the sort to take immediate action. More’s the pity.”

“I can.” His hands tightened.

“Can you? Truly?”

His mouth had opened to retort as the door opened, Steve and Sif stepping through hand in hand. Steve hardly looked happier, and Natasha was subconsciously grateful for it as she turned to look at him, her expression relaxing into that of a content smile.

“Steven, my lady.” She rose on level legs and dipped into a quick curtsey. If it showed off the attractive arch in her back to Loki, then all the better. “Did you two have a pleasant walk?”

“We did.” Sif said. “I take it you two are getting along well enough?” She asked, looking from the queen to Loki, who’d yet to stand up. Natasha hid a smirk at the thought that she might’ve had something to do with that.

“Aye, we are,” Loki assured her, and his voice sounded tight. Constrained.

 _Much like his cock_ , Natasha guessed. The thought sent a bolt of heat between her legs at the idea of taking him in, of hearing just how broken his voice could get near the end. Or would it stay controlled and snide the whole way through? She hoped not, hoped that he would be one she could break down until he gasped and writhed beneath her, his hips stuttering as he begged her for more--.

One of her hands shot out to the back of her chair to catch herself before her knees buckled. Those were dangerous thoughts, and Steve rushed to her side to help, not having noticed just how red Natasha’s face had gotten from her musings.

“Why don’t we get you laying down? You’re still not feeling much better.” He admonished, frowning as he placed a hand on her shoulder to help her steady herself. That was probably for the better. She could already feel herself growing slick between her legs, and taking the matter into her own hands would keep her from embarrassing herself further.

It didn’t help that she felt Loki’s eyes on her the whole while they walked out, hoping he couldn’t tell just how much his presence was affecting her.

 

\--

 

They skirted around one another for the next few weeks, exchanging no more than the occasional flirtation and glance in one another’s direction. Steve kept Natasha busy, either way, asking for her company whenever he could reasonably get away with it. More than once she had to remind him that she wouldn’t be holding his hand throughout his wedding night, too, but inwardly she was pleased at how he valued her presence and her opinions on everything. Each evening he’d return all but vibrating with excitement once they were in their rooms.

“She’s just--she’s everything, Nat.” Steve gushed, the color high in his cheeks. Natasha would have to work to stifle a giggle of her own more often than not, perpetually amazed at just how excited he got over the prospect of marriage. It was adorable, and even better Natasha had heard from Loki that Sif was just as excited and eager for the wedding. Thank goodness. Arranged marriages were something she’d done her very best to keep away from. Her advisors had brought princes and kings and men of great importance in front of her in her youth in hopes of strengthening their kingdom. But no. Marriage wasn’t for her, husbands weren’t for her, nor wives. She enjoyed her freedom too much for that.

“Oh, sorry?” She looked up at Steve, who laughed quietly. She’d missed what it was that he’d said, too deep in the recesses of her own memory.

“I said that you and Loki seem to have been getting on well.” His smile spread even wider as Natasha’s cheeks grew warm and she reached out to swat his arm. She hadn’t thought he’d been cognisant enough to have noticed, what with Sif distracting him all the time. She’d hoped he hadn’t noticed, to be frank with herself.

“Oh yes, he’s an interesting fellow,” she said, almost offhandedly as she gave a shrug of her shoulders. “Very interesting indeed.”

“You like him.”

“I enjoy his presence, yes. And he’s quick witted enough to keep my attention.”

“Will you invite him back to court?”

She wished Steve didn’t look so damn interested, wished she could smack the smirk right off his face when he stared at her and added gravity to her silence. Why was he getting better at reading her? That wasn’t fair.

“He’s welcome to, certainly. Will I go so far as to request it? Perhaps.”

His eyes dug into her and she rolled her own. “Oh, be quiet.”

“I didn’t say a word.”

He didn’t have to.

 

\--

 

At Thor’s insistence there was one final, grand feast before Steve and Natasha were to leave, and Natasha would be glad to setting off for home in the morning. Mostly. Asgard was a gorgeous kingdom, one she’d never had the chance to visit before, but now she found she’d miss the Southern realm. She kept telling herself that it was the place she’d be missing, not the people, though certainly they were lovely as well.

Her gown for this evening was sumptuous, one she’d had made strictly for the trip, without any sort of foresight or any knowledge of a certain prince. How lucky for her. The green fabric was as dark and rich as the forest that surrounded the castle, where she and Loki had rode with the others for a hunt. Along the bodice stretching towards the full bottom was gold filigree stitched into the deep backdrop, the hem of it done up in black and gold thread. She’d had half a mind not to wear it, to have something else fashioned up for her, but by the nine kingdoms she’d had this dress made specifically for this bloody trip, and she’d wear it at least once or be damned for her vanity.

Her hair was curled and piled atop her head, allowing for her to twirl one of the loose ringlets around her finger. There was one night left, one last evening before she hardly ever saw these people again. She had to make it count.

There came a knock on her door and she turned to look at her door. Just on time.

“Come in, please.”

The door began to shift, and Loki stopped dead in his tracks just inside the door frame, his eyes going wide as the moon that filtered in through Natasha’s window. With the torches lit just behind her she hoped it proved to be as impressive a backdrop as she envisioned it to be, her smile going rather demure as she broke into a curtsy of her own.

Make it count, Natasha.

“My lady you are absolutely radiant.” Loki said after straightening from his own bow, the surprise and desire burning low in his eyes as he made to step closer towards her.

“Close the door, please.” She asked, her voice husky. He arched a brow, but did as she asked. Her heart sped up at the sound of the heavy wood falling back into its frame, and she trained her lips into an elegant smile as the first strains of music reached her room through her open window. Perfect.

“There’ll be talk,” Loki said as he stepped closer to her. She didn’t stop him.

“What sort of queen would I be if I didn’t give everyone something to talk about in my absence?” She asked, breath quickening as he came to stop just in front of her. One of his hands reached out, cupped the side of her face to tip it upwards, and her lips parted of their own volition.

Still, where was the fun in an evening without a chase?

Her hand covered his and squeezed, before she dipped out of his hold and twirled further back into the room, watching as his eyes set upon her like a dog on a prize stag. She smiled, sly, already spinning her web as he began to move closer towards her again, and yet again she danced just out of his grip. They sank further into the shadows of her room, where the torchlight was scarce and there he managed to catch her by the chin and pull her face upwards, to sink his lips against hers. She groaned, melting against the heat of his body. This. This was what she’d been craving for so long, and her body thrummed with energy. He pressed her backwards against the wall, the cold wall causing her breath to catch in her throat as he wrapped one arm around her waist. The closer he tugged her, the harder she could feel him against her, and the hotter the fire inside her chest grew.

“Are you sure?” Loki gasped, eyes dark and breath heavy as he pulled away to mouth his way down the column of her throat.

“We don’t have much time to question this. I want this. You want this.”

He nodded his agreement, and her hands flew to the laces of his trousers to begin and undo them. She wasn’t about to take off her dress, having spent far too much time getting it on to remove it, but it was easier to at least hike up around her waist. She’d forgone the enormous wire bell, preferring a slimmer look, and she was grateful for it.

“Bed?” He asked.

She shook her head and once she managed to slide his black trousers and undergarments down. His already hardened cock sprang up and into her waiting hand. He gasped when she started to stroke him, keeping her movements even and slow, biting her bottom lip when she stared up at him.

“Natasha--God I want you so badly.” He begged. His lips were swollen and she wanted to take them between her teeth and bite them, to feel him whine beneath her.

“So take me.” She told him. She’d forgone what undergarments she could and she took his arm that had wrapped around her waist, trailing it downwards so he could feel just how wet she was. How badly she wanted him, and had wanted for some time. He hiked her up into his arms, the head of his cock pressed against her slit, and with a low, guttural groan of her own he slid slowly inside, filling her entirely to the root with one simple motion. She cursed, teeth finding his ear as she moved to breathe and beg and whimper against his skin. He didn’t need much more prompting, and she wasn’t at all disappointed with the way he took her apart with every thrust of his hips. She wrapped her own arms around his shoulders, one hand burying in his hair as their eyes met and didn’t break away. Air was becoming difficult to come by and as one of his hands managed to slip under her skirt and press against the bundle of nerves right at the top of her slit Natasha’s vision began to white out. Back arching, mouth opened in a silent scream, her body rippled with pleasure until she had no other choice but to surrender to it. To him. Her body tightened around his, nails digging into the back of his scalp, and it set off his own orgasm to follow, his body pulsing beneath her as he buried himself to the root within her.

It hadn’t been nearly long enough, there just wasn’t enough time for it, and by the time they’d come down from their shared high to gain enough lucidity to redress and collect themselves, Nat snuck a look over at him and offered a small smile.

“You know, if you’re ever bored you’d be more than welcome at my own court.” She said simply, readjusting where her hair had pressed against the wall.

“Is that an invitation?” He asked, shooting her a grin of his own. His whole face had lit up with her words, and her chest ached with her own happiness.

“More of a very pointed suggestion.” She winked, and stood on her toes to press her lips to his own. She couldn’t imagine him saying no, not when it meant they’d have hours to spend with one another. Longer, if he played his cards right. She was in need of a new distraction.

 

 


End file.
